


sometimes girls can dream of love, like fairy tales

by driedflowers



Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: F/F, mentioned clary/simon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-25
Updated: 2016-06-25
Packaged: 2018-07-18 05:06:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7300696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/driedflowers/pseuds/driedflowers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A rewrite of the scene in the Seelie Court in City of Ashes, with a slightly different ending.</p>
            </blockquote>





	sometimes girls can dream of love, like fairy tales

**Author's Note:**

> thanks to tumblr user magnusbane-daily for betaing! and thanks to shadowhuntersbetas for connecting us :)
> 
> the title is from baby it's you by arden cho

Clary’s heart drops to her stomach. She knows. She knows that in order to save herself, in order to not rot in the Seelie Court for all of eternity, she has to kiss the person she most desires. And that person is definitely not her boyfriend, who happens to be giving her an adorable smile. She smiles feebly back at him. If it looks more like a grimace, well, that’s alright. She’s about to break his heart, anyway.

The Seelie Queen’s magic tugs at her mind, but she fights it off for a moment longer, staring at a bit of lichen on the base of the Queen’s throne. Everyone else is frozen around her, not daring to move, breathe.

Clary turns to face her friend, her boyfriend, her brother. They’re standing, quite conveniently, in a line. Like she’s going to pick Door 3 and win a kitchen set, or maybe find a goat behind Door 1.

She looks at them, and she wants more than anything to want to kiss Simon. They’ve kissed before, and it was perfectly alright. He’s warm, and familiar, and her best fucking friend. But Clary knows that kissing him won’t get her out of the Seelie Court.

Water drips onto the stone floor from Isabelle’s coat, the only sound in the room. They’re all still sopping wet. Jace and Simon’s clothing is clinging to them, but it doesn’t catch Clary’s eye like Isabelle’s does. Her dress is like a second skin, hugging every curve, every plane of muscle. And maybe it doesn’t matter that Clary can’t stop staring (leering, really), because Isabelle is going to know soon enough anyway.

There’s no point in putting this off any longer. A small voice in Clary’s head tells her she’s been putting it off almost since they met. That’s the thing: she _wants_ to kiss Isabelle Lightwood. Somewhat desperately, at this point.

Clary bites her bottom lip absently, and then swallows. She’s kissed people before, initiated kisses before, but in this moment it’s like she’s fifteen again.

Clary clears her throat. “Isabelle?” She gives Izzy a closed-lipped smile, hoping that it can convey how sorry she is about this. Not that there’s going to be that much to be sorry about. It’s going to be a quick peck on the lips, enough to get them out of here so Clary can hide under a rock in embarrassment for several weeks. Because there’s no way Isabelle wants this, too. She doesn’t let herself hope.

Izzy steps towards Clary, breaking the line, and Clary feels again like she’s on some sort of twisted game show. She looks up at Izzy. Gone is the other girl’s omnipresent smirk. Izzy looks uncertain, Clary thinks, but not disgusted.

Clary leans forward and presses her lips against Izzy’s. It’s not even a kiss, really, just a press of one closed mouth to another. Clary’s lips are barely sticky from Izzy’s lip gloss when she pulls back; most of it must have come off in the water. Or maybe she can’t tell if it’s strawberry or bubblegum because she and Izzy have barely touched. The Seelie Queen isn’t saying anything, and Clary is starting to wonder if maybe that peck wasn’t enough when Isabelle kisses her.

This is a real kiss. It’s probably what the Seelie Queen wants, and _definitely_ what Clary wants. Her heart is pounding in her chest, and even as Isabelle puts her hands on Clary’s waist, pulling her closer, Clary can’t help but fear that Izzy’s just taking one for the team.

When they break apart, and Isabelle beams at her, she stops being afraid. Clary allows herself a moment to smile at Isabelle, to take in her radiant beauty, before turning to Simon. Her best friend. Her _boyfriend._

“Simon, I’m—”

“It’s okay,” he says, interrupting her apology. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”

Clary gives him an incredulous look.

“Okay, I’m not fine. But I will be, okay? Honestly, I’d rather our relationship not work out because you’re a lesbian than because of something one of us did. Are you a lesbian? I know there’s—”

The Seelie Queen cuts off Simon’s rambling with a pointed cough. “You may go,” she says, and they leave before she can change her mind.

Simon gives Clary a sheepish grin before walking ahead to catch up with Jace.  Clary smiles tentatively at Isabelle, falling into step beside her. They may not have gotten the support of the Fae from their trip to the Seelie Court, but that’s the last thing on Clary’s mind as Isabelle slips her hand into hers. 

**Author's Note:**

> ETA: there is another fic written turning this scene into clizzy: [The Fairytale](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6093331). I read this fic several months ago, and it stayed in my subconscious. I can't take credit for the idea of rewriting this scene specifically as clizzy, although the actual substance of the scene has not been influenced by this other fic. I recommend you check it out, though. It's great!


End file.
